


phantom pains

by TheQueenInTheNorth



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 07:18:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQueenInTheNorth/pseuds/TheQueenInTheNorth
Summary: someone sharing your pain is quite literal in the case of soulmates.





	phantom pains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whistlingwindtree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whistlingwindtree/gifts).



Mary Sue’s used to the occasional jabs of pain, the ones that happen without her doing anything to get hurt. She’s had them for as long as she can remember and she’s never asked the nuns about them. It would have seemed a silly thing to ask. It was just something that happened sometimes.

It doesn’t occur to her that it’s not the same for everyone until she gasps and clutches her side at a particularly sharp sting and her big sister’s eyes widen.

(She’s trying that out in her head ever since Lauren introduced her as ‘my little sister Mary’ at the playground last week. She’s been with this family for three months now, and she’s hopeful she’ll get to stay.)

“You’re one of those people,”Lauren whispers.

It doesn’t sound mean but Mary Sue still freezes.“One of what people?”

Lauren grins, that I-know-more-than-you grin bigger kids always have, that doesn’t seem so cruel when it’s from someone who lets you borrow their teddy and explains the stuff they know to you.“You have a soulmate! Great-grandmama and Pops are soulmates. They live in Massachuchetts.”

“What’s that?”Mary Sue asks. She’s heard of souls from the nuns but not of soulmates. She’s also not sure what Massachuchetts is but that seems less important.“A soulmate?”

“They’re the person for you,”Lauren explains.“Like Prince Charming, you know? And you can feel what they feel and they can feel what you feel.”

Mary Sue wants to ask more but they’re called for dinner just then and it’s pizza night, so that’s really more important. There’ll be time for questions some other time, she thinks.

She’s made to go back to the orphanage three days later.

* * *

She hasn’t thought about the soulmate stuff in years because thinking about it means thinking about Lauren, means thinking about why she wasn’t wanted anymore. So she firmly ignores all the aches and pinches she has no bodily explanation for.

Until there’s a pain in her arm so blinding that she falls to her knees, choking back sobs and clutching her arm to her chest. It’s broken, it must be broken.

There’s hands on her shoulders and back, voices demanding, questioning, worrying but she can’t make sense of them.

She looks eventually up to see Mother Superior staring down at her, vaguely blurred by her tears.

“What’s going on?”she demands, and by the tone it’s clear she must have asked a few times already.

“My soulmate,”Mary Sue starts but she doesn’t make it further before Mother Superior interrupts her.“There’s no such thing. If there were, it would be mentioned in the bible.”

“Mount Everest isn’t in the bible. Is that not real either?”

It’s the sort of thing she usually only thinks and she bites her tongue the second the words slip out but it’s too late.

She hopes her poor soulmate doesn’t hate her too much for getting them a caning on top of a broken arm.

* * *

Skye’s picking at the barely healed cut on her arm, trying her best to distract herself from the urge to add another. She’s run into another dead end in the search for her birth parents and it’s harder and harder to keep pretending to be hopeful.

The blade has barely touched her skin when something smacks her in the back of the head. She spins around even though she knows she’s alone.

“What the fuck?”she mumbles, and then pinches the crook of her arm experimentally.

Another sharp smack, on her upper thigh this time.

She hopes her soulmate is alone, too, because they must look like a lunatic slapping themselves hard enough to get her attention. Assuming that’s what they’re trying to do, anyway.

As far as she’s figured out, the phantom pains are not near as bad as the real thing. That’s why she isn’t completely wracked with guilt over the cuts.

She waits another few seconds. Maybe they’re in some sort of fight and it was only a coincident?

But then there’s a pressure on her thumb, the shadow of digging your fingernail into your own skin. Three long jabs, a pause, long, short, long.

Definitely an attempt at communication, then.

They’ve got their message across, and they did so in an odd enough way to actually put a smile on Skye’s face. She shoves the blade back into the far corner of the drawer.

She presses her nail into her own thumb, responding with the same two letters in morse code.

O.K.

* * *

The urge doesn’t go away, of course. But the feeling of being alone with it does, and that feels like she’s won a momentous battle in an unending war.

She digs her fingernails into her palm instead, and an echo of it spreads in her other palm as her soulmate responds.

She sits like that for some time until slowly, so slowly, the pressure on her hand lessens a little. They’ve lifted one finger away. It feels like a question.

She nods, feeling a little silly when she remembers they’re god knows where and can’t see her. One by one, she uncurls her fingers, and her soulmate follows suit.

Then there’s a gentle pressure on her hand. They must squeeze their own enough to almost cause pain, but it is a close approximation of someone taking her hand in comfort.

She mimics that, too, three long squeezes, a pause, long, short, long.

* * *

They check in with that method occasionally. Neither of them tries to communicate any further than the same two letters.

She’d like to meet them, of course, but can’t face the thought of another disappointment at this moment in life, not when she feels like she has nothing but disappointments these days. She doesn’t want to lose the dream of the perfect soulmate to cold, harsh reality.

As it turns out, cold, harsh reality can set in without attempting to meet.

She’s jerked awake by pain so intense she has to cover her mouth to stifle her scream; every inch of her body hurts, bones shatter and skin tears, and it doesn’t stop, it just doesn’t stop - until it suddenly does, and that’s more terrifying than anything she could have imagined.

From this to nothing can only mean - it must mean -

Her nails dig into her skin, trying to stay calm, trying to call out for an answer.

It doesn’t come. Nothing comes. The pain has faded and all she is left with is the frantic beating of her heart, her ragged breathing filling the room.

And then she’s on fire.

She thought she had learned what true pain was moments before but she was mistaken. It knocks the air out of her lungs and she collapses back into her pillows.

She must have passed out for a moment, she thinks, because the next thing she knows is the soft, barely there pressure on her hand, squeezing that familiar rhythm.

She responds with the same, even though what she wants to say is, _What happened? I’m so sorry for whatever you’re going through._ and, even if she’s not quite ready to admit that, _Who are you?_

* * *

Daisy’s getting herself into more and more dangerous situations these days and it would seem her soulmate isn’t up to anything relaxing either. They’ve taken to pinching their side before missions to warn the other that something is about to go down.

Or, well, Daisy thinks of whatever her soulmate’s doing as missions. For all she knows, they could be one of those shady types she’s dedicated her life to stopping. Just another reason not to try and find them, really.

She’s approaching the warehouse where she should find a few Watchdogs according to her intel, pinching her side as she goes.

O.K., her soulmate gives back, and then pinches their own side.

That’s new. They’ve never been on a mission at the same time before.

She wonders if she’ll even notices their injuries while she’s in a fight. The adrenaline mostly makes her miss even her own.

Either way, she presses the code into her own hand. O.K.

It feels like a _Good luck_ , or maybe a _Stay safe_.

* * *

There was another vigilante already on their tail. Another Inhuman, by the looks of it, with that flaming head of his.

“Who are you working for?”she asks once the Watchdogs are all taken care of. The enemy of her enemy isn’t necessarily her friend, all idioms aside.

“How’s your shoulder?”he asks instead of answering her question, eyes intense and stepping way too close.

She moves back, hitting the wall as she does so.“What?”

She doesn’t think she’s shown an outward sign of her pain. She also oddly doesn’t feel threatened or crowded when he follows her into her personal space again.

He’s staring at her as if she’s some sort of apparition, reaching out slowly.

She lets him take her hand, too confused to think anything. He has freckles, her brain supplies in lieu of anything helpful, that’s so cute.

And then he’s squeezing her hand, three long, a pause, long, short, long, and the puzzle pieces click into place.

“Oh,”she breathes.

“Yeah,”he says. He looks about as stunned as she feels.“I’m Robbie.”

“Daisy,”she returns, slowly moving her hand to the cut on his cheek.“You okay?”

He chuckles, and she’s never heard a more beautiful sound.

* * *

“Mi amor, I’m home,”Robbie calls out, the door falling closed behind him.

“In the bedroom,”Daisy shouts back rather unnecessarily. He’s already on his way there, knowing full-well he’ll find her curled up with a heating pad. He would’ve felt the cramps that hit earlier.

And sure enough, he already appears in the doorway.“I brought chocolate. Scoot over.”

She does and he puts an arm around her, absently kneading at the tense muscles in her lower back.

“Thanks for taking the Midol,”he says, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Daisy chuckles, curling into his side.“No problem, babe.”

She intertwines their fingers and they both automatically press out the same sequence. Three long, a pause, long, short, long.

Daisy pops a piece of chocolate into her mouth with her free hand, sighing contentedly.

This is far, far better than just okay.


End file.
